Love and Hate Are all the Same in the End
by Priestess of the Myrmidon
Summary: [UNDER REVISION] So why is Achilles opposed to love? What if in his past there was somebody who changed him? And as earlier, I suck at summaries...just RR. PREVIOUSLY TITLED STUCK CAN'T THINK OF ONE
1. Meeting

Title: Stuck...can't think of 1

Rating: PG-13

Summary: So why is Achilles opposed to love? What if in his past there was somebody who changed him? And as earlier, I suck at summaries...just RR. Please...

Genre: Romance

Pairing: Achilles/OC

Disclaimer: Troy is mine! Muhahahaha! Um, yeah... sure, it is my dreams at least.

A/N: Uhh... I don't have one. Wait, yes I do! Ummm... you guys know the drill, italicized in paragraph thoughts or emphasis, italicized and not in paragraph, flash back. And as y'all know, this'll be _UN-HOMER LIKE!_ I repeat, un-homer like, because this is the Troy section, duh!  
Hey, and a little help with coming up with a title?

And to the ever so lovely, Fanfiction's Saviour/Antichrist/Police: Constructive critisism please!

A/N2: I know Azhure isn't a Greek name, but whatever...

A/N3: I was thinking of turning this into a Hector and Andromache story, or should I keep it the same? Review or e-mail me your answer...

* * *

The young Achilles of Phita sighed and looked out at the speck of a city on the horizon, leaning heavily on the rough, wooden rail of the boat. The sun was beating down on the ship. His father and mother had decided that Phita needed an alliance. So, much to his aggrivence, he was marrying. Marrying a woman he didn't even know. The woman he was marrying was a princess of Mycenae. Apparantley she was the daughter of the King of Mycenae, Diomedes, and her name was Azhure. What an odd name Azhure was. 

Now more than ever, he wished he had a sister. Now, it wasn't for the best reason, but at the moment, having a sister seemed like an extrememly captivating thing to him. If he had a sister, she would have been married off for an allience with Mycenae. But, since he didn't have a sister, he had the joy of being in an arranged marrige. Achilles had always valued his freedm before, his freedom to bed whoever he pleased. Now, he couldn't. Achilles had a high sense of honor, and while he knew it was not uncommon for men to take mistresses, he had always felt there was no honor in it. _This woman had better be worth my freedom_, he snarled mentally to himself and his parents, knowing they couldn't hear him.

The city was now entirely in view, and it was fast becoming reality he was to marry a woman he didn't know. He didn't even know what she looked like or what she was like. Everything seemed to be speeding by, because suddenly he found himself being greeted by the king of Mycenae on the beautiful beach of Mycenae.

"Greetings to you, King Diomedes," he said with a bow. Inwardly, he cursed his golden, long locks that fell in his face. With an annoyed swipe, they were out of his face.

Diomedes watched this young man in front of him with amusement, he would be an amusing match for his daughter.

"And to you, Achilles of Phita." They gripped forearms. "I trust Posiden blessed you journey here" Achilles nodded distantly, and Diomedes smiled warmly. "This way." The king lead the young warrior to the palace, leaving the sailors to stay on the ship over night.

Her mother, Helena, had sent a servant to fetch her so that she could go and meet her husband-to-be at the feast.

Oh Gods, had the time arrived already? With a sigh, (she seemed to be sighing a lot lately) she slipped on a pair of sandals, with her blue toga swirling elegantly, and went to meet her future husband expecting the worst from this brute she was to marry.

How could her parents marry her off to this brute? Stories of his skills with the sword were like a legend around the world, and when she had learned that she would marry the man from these stories, she had burst into tears.

_"Azhure, my daughter, you know why I have sent for you?" Her father had asked. He was sitting by her mother. She had nodded numbly. "We have reached a conclusion as to who you shall marry." _

"Who?" She had asked fearfully, scared of his answer; she disliked all the suitors mentioned earlier in the year, she had even met some of them, and they had treated her like a horse being examined before a purchase. Her mother had looked at Azhure with pity in her eyes; she knew Azhure didn't want to marry. She knew she didn't want to leave her childhood home. Helena knew what it was like. However, Azhure didn't want pity! She wanted them to not accept suit for her to marry. She didn't want to marry, as she had stated rather forcefully when she had heard her parents were discussing her marrige.

_"Achilles of Phita." Her father had replied. Tears had welled up in her brown eyes and slid down her fair cheeks. She had angrily wiped them away with a sniff. Azhure hated showing weakness. Since she was now going to be married to a brute, now more than ever she needed to not show weakness. _

_Azhure thought crying was a major sign of weakness, and it was. Anyone who knew Azhure knew that crying for her was a sign of utter desperation, and despair. She rarely cried. Why had her parents never mentioned that there was the posisbility of marrying him before? Why had they kept this from her? Why?_

_"Him? The one in the stories?" she had asked tearfully, already knowng and dreading the answer. Hoping that perhaps there was another Achilles, however stupid that hope was. Perhaps there was cousin of his named Achilles. _This is stupid and you know it, there is no other Achilles of Phita_, she had thought._

_"Yes," Helena, her mother had murmered. "Do not hate us, my dear Azhure. Someday maybe you shall understand our reasoning." They had tried to console her to no avail._

_"Yes, and until then, I shall hate you both!" she shouted desperately. " Why did you do this to me? Especially you, Mother! You know what this is like. He is a brute! Mycenae has gotten along fine, why do is there a need for me to marry and our countries form an allience? And especially that man!" she had cried._

_She had sat down numbly on the bed by her father and mother and he rubbed her back, trying to comfort her a little. She had smiled wanely through her tears, reconizing his attempt to comfort her. "I'm sorry, Father, Mother. I didn't mean that, I spoke rashly. You never do something without thinking it through." She dropped her eyes to the floor._

_"I know, my dear, I know. Know that we love you, and I would not do this unless I thought it would work out well for you in the end. I have met him, and he is nothing like the man in the stories. Do not fear, Azhure, he will treat you well. He is very alike to you, and I'm sure he reacted with the somewhat same reaction. His temper matches yours, and if you have children, I tremble to see what they will be like... Do not worry, Azhure," he had said, reading her look, "You will not be a slave to him..."_

Adrinafearedslavery to her husband. That was what she thought she was most likely going to be in, no matter what her parents said, she didn't believe them. Azhure was despairing about her future.

She looked out the window at the ocean. This was her last day in Mycenae. Her final day in her true home. What would always be her home. Tomorrow, she was sailing away with Prince Achilles to Phita. She would leave her home. Forever.

Leave the lovely gardens. Leave her parents and friends. Leave the lovely beach. And while there were beaches in Phita, they didn't interest her in the least. Phita was not her home. Phita was not where she had grown up. Phita was not where her family lived.

It was absurd that her parents who loved her would marry her off to a man she didn't know. A brute at that. Marry her off to the man of the legends.

Would he be scarred and maimed? Would he be cruel and unpleasant? Her future was so unsure. Her life was now out of hercontrol, and she _hated _that.

Soon she would not belong to herself, she would belong to the man in her nightmares...Achilles. Just thinking of that hated name brought hatred and the urge to cry up bubbling up. The brute Achiles was to be her husband.

Tomorrow, she would leave for Phita, and her life was in the blood-staind hands of the brute, Achilles.

Many people envied the life of a princess, but she didn't know why. Sure, she didn't have to work many hours a day. Sure, she was pampered (which she wasn't extremely fond of), but in her eyes it didn't equal out. Princesses were to be married off to the man with the highest price, and they were the property of the man they were married to.

* * *

Achilles patiently listened to the woman's father, as he described his future wife, upon his questioning. Achilles wasn't paying attention to the King, as he stared over the man's shoulder at a beautiful woman who had just entered the room.

He took a look at her face, her prominent cheekbones, and long, straight nose and full lips. She was so elegant, and so fragile looking. But weren't all women fragile?

Diomedes followed the young man's gaze to the source of his sudden disintrest, and almost laughed, both at his expression, and the possible anger at her daughter when she opened her mouth; Azhure had quite a temper. He loved his daughter dearly, but sometimes her beauty did not equate to her tounge.

"Ahhhh...Come here Azhure, and greet your future husband, Achiles. Azhure, this is Achilles. Achilles meet Azhure." Gracefully and emotionlessly, she walked up to the two seated men. Azhure's dark brown hair was up in an elegant but simple style. She wore a blue toga, a blue gem on a chain and had but a little bit of make-up on. She looked abosolutely stunning. Diomedes got up and motioned for her to take his seat. She did, albeit hesitantly. The king of Mycenae left the couple to their own devices, however dangerous that might be.

_Oh Hera! _This was the man she was to marry? Azhure hated everything about Achilles. Everything from his good looks, his tan skin, his blue eyes, his hair. Everything! Including his sheer, gods damned confidence! She could see it by the way he held himself up.

"Greetings, milord," Azhure said, her voice flat, fighting the urge to cry.She would _not _be weak in front of her brute of a husband-to-be. Besides, all her tears were used up on begging her parents to call of their marrige. If she had to cry, she would in her room, away from her betrothed, and in private.

_At least he is not old or ugly,_ she thought trying to comfort herself with that thought. He was actually quite good looking, with suprisingly full lips, blue eyes, tan skin and blond chin length hair that seemed to be annoying him. But would his personality be as nice as his looks?

"Greetings to you, Azhure," he returned just as stiffly as she had.

_How dare he address me so informally! We barely know each other, and yet already this infuriating man is calling me by my first name! _she thought angrily.

He scared her. She observed how gracefully, how confidently he move. How muscular he was.

He could easily crush her bones. Azhure almost trembled with her fear. _No! That is what he wants. I will not let him frighten me!_ A servant placed a ceramic plate in font of the young princess and backed quickly away from the hostile pair.

The two were in the middle of what could almost be called a war. A verbal one, and soon to be a physical one. Azhure placed some food on her plate. There was a long, awkward silence. "Why don't you just call me Achilles, as we are soon to be married?" he asked her, trying to draw her into conversation.

"I never address strangers by their first names." That killed their conversation effectively for scores of minutes. Mentally, Achilles was desparing; this was the woman he was going to spend his life with? After that oh-so-lovely thought, he suddenly found the food to be extremely unapetizing, whearas moments ago, the food was delightful.

Finally, the young man asked genuinely, curious, "Is the food not to your liking, or are you just not hungry?" His bride-to-be had only picked at the food on her plate so far. Perhaps he could learn something about her, like what kind of food not to like. He did find it strange though, he supposed it was the latter and not the former, as this was her home, and by her age, her parents would know what kind of food she hated.

"No, I am not hungry, at least not in this company!" she snapped, daring a harsh and biting comment. _I cannot stomach food next to you, you idiotic brute,_ Azhure thought. Azhure half expected him to strangle her right then and there, whether the were in Mycenae or not. In public or not.

_Yes, and you're insufferable too,_ Achilles thought venemously. After her comment, the man then sent scathing glares her way, and she returned them. "You know," he said to her, attempting to make conversation, "I wasn't expecting a war with you, my dear princess, just a bride."

Azhure then mentally berated herself, he was just trying to be nice to her, and it would not do to have him treat her harshly. She might as well try and get along with him, they were going to be together for a _long_ time. Perhaps if they got along this marrige would not be such a terrible one. She stopped that train of thought. What would trying to get along with this man do? Their marrige was still going to be horrible. Of that, she was certain of.

Soon some lovely music started up, and men were leading their sweethearts or wives out to dance.

"Would you like to dance, Azhure?" he asked her. Achilles stood up and held his hand out courteously to Azhure, praying she said yes. Maybe she would be coopertive about this one very small thing.

Unfortunately, he was almost positive that wasn't going to happen. This woman was infuriating, but he wanted to try and get familiar with her before their wedding and maybe even form a friendship, although at that moment, the latter seemed very unlikely to happen. And he had thought seige and the like were frustrating. They didn't hold a candle to how annoying Azhure was. Ye gods, he was going to marry this woman?

At that frustrating moment in his now seemingly cursed life, some of his hair decided to fall in his face. _Would his hair never stop falling into his face? _Achilles let it hang there, he was too annoyed with Azhure to deal with his Gods damned hair. _He almost looks handsome like that!_ Azhure thought with disbelief. Although she was vexed with him, she couldn't help it. How old was he anyway? Then:_Ha! Great Achilles annoyed by some hair! _she crowed to herself.

"Oh, I don't think so, My lord," Azhure replied sweetly, knowing he would not, could notforce her to dance in Mycenae, for he was not her husband yet. The princess Mycenae was utterly wrong. She had underestimated him.

He gently grabbed her hand, attepmting to not hurt her, and was about to pull her down into the other dancers.

Azhure started to protest, but he quickly pulled her into his arms, with her blue toga swirling with her movements and led her around in time to the music. She pulled away from his grip and held onto his hand. At least she didn't have to be in an embrace with him if she held his hand.

"Stay your tongue, my dear wife-to-be, before I take more drastic measures," he breathed furiously into her ear. The woman favored his hand with the same respect that was due to a poisonous snake, and glared at him, her own brown eyes were furious.

She replied with a short laugh to hide her fear. Would she be a slave to this man in his household? Would he beat her into submission? Starve her?

"Like what? Shoot daggers with your eyes? You've been doing it all night," Azhure snarled quietly to him. Her wide brown eyes were narrowed into slits of fury.

Achilles pausedand pulled back to look into her eyes, and even though she was furious with him, Azhure knew she would never seen a more handsome sight than he was with his blue eyes flashing from anger.

"Oh? And how about your attempts to get rid of me? Luckily for you," she snorted, but he countinued, ignoring her,"I can ignore such things, but since your my future _wife,_" he growled those last three words with utter disdain, "I should think you would try and get along with me! I've tried being nice, _my lady,_" he emphisized the my lady, "so why don't you? I'm trying to make this as easy as possible for you, just accept it."

_Would he never stop bringing up their upcoming marrige? Stop rubbing it in her face?_she thought, nowoutraged. Then, she realized, he was right; she _was _going to be married to him, and they might as well get along. However, she'd die before she'd admit that idiot was right!

She gasped in anger. " And why are you getting so upset about this now? You were a total gentleman to me earlier, whe we were eating, now you're being a total ass!"

Where she had learned that language, Achilles didn't even think to wonder. Then, Azhure looked up into his ocean blue eyes in false surprise.

"What was I supposed to do when I saw you? Tell me, my dear _Achilles,_ what else was I supposed to do that I obviously forgot about? Fall at your feet and kiss them,and then, let you know how glad I was to see my brave husband-to-be, the man of legends,arrive so that he can protect me on my long journey to a place I will marry a total idiot? _You? _To take me from my family? Please, it would've been better off if your ship had sunk on the way here," she scoffed.

"You know, you're right," he said with a smirk. She gaped at him, mouth hanging open in astonishment. She was not prepared for what he said next. "Then I wouldn't have to put up with your senseless attempts to get rid of me and hurt me."

The anger in her eyes flared up again, and Azhure stepped on his foot puting all her weight behind it, forcing him to muffle his howl of pain. "How's that for hurting you?" she hissed furiously,glaring at him, hoping thathe would magically drop dead in front of her eyes,before she turned and walked back to her room, tears of anger welling in her eyes, ignoring all the curious glances set her way.

She knew her father would be furious with her tomorrow, when Achilles would obviously tell him, but the expression on his face was worth it.

Yes, she feared Achilles and her father's wrath, but that look of pain on his face was worth more than her many gems. She wanted nothing more than to anger her betrothed, as he was the one who was going to take her away from her home. Achilles stared after her, furious, and wishing he had never step foot in this palace.

That last thought made him think about his now sore foot she had mostgraciously stepped on. How much did she weigh, anyways? She looked fragile and feather light, but she still managed to inflict this much pain to his foot? _Apparantly looks are extremely misleading when it comes to women,_ he thought. He smiled dryly. _If you want a war, princess, then you shall most certainly have one. Two can play at this game_.

* * *

Click on that small light purple-ish button thingee on your bottom left corner that says go and leave a review! Suggestions for a title anyone? Please? 

Priestess


	2. Leaving Home Forever

Title: Stuck...can't think of 1

Rating: PG-13

Summary: So why is Achilles opposed to love? What if in his past there was somebody who changed him? And as earlier, I suck at summaries...just RR. Please...

Genre: Romance

Pairing: Achilles/OC

Disclaimer: Troy is mine! I stole it yesterday... OK, so maybe I didn't, it still doesn't belong to me... Darn!

A/N: Uhh... I don't have one. Wait, yes I do! Ummm... you guys know the drill, italicized in paragraph thoughts or emphasis. And as y'all know, this'll be _UN-HOMER LIKE!_ I repeat, un-homer like, because this is the Troy section, duh!  
Hey, and a little help with coming up with a title?

And to the ever so lovely, Fanfiction's Saviour/Antichrist/Police: Constructive critisism please! (Actually no comments would be even better)

A/N2: And no, Chryseis is not related to Briseis in any way...

* * *

This was her final morning here. In Mycenae. In her lovely home. Oh, how she didn't want to leave her beloved Mycenae!

The extremely intense desire to make herself as nasty looking as possible shot through her, but she very quickly deserted that idea. Nothing would make her more happy than to spite her husband-to-be, but, this was the final time the people of Mycenae would look upon their princess. The last.

"Chryseis?" she called. Chryseis was captured during a war years ago and had been brought back to be her slave.

However, Azhure had taken pity on her and didn't have her branded. She had always found branding to be barbaious. It was cruel. Evil. That was five years ago when Azhure had been ten and three. The two woman had grown up together and had become close friends.

Chryseis had been who she had confided in when she'd had problems. Chryseis had been the one who'd loved her like the sister she didn't have. Chryseis had helped through her problems.

Chryseis was a striking woman, but because of her station, she down-played her looks. She had emerald green eyes, and wheat colored hair. She looked fragile, as she was barely over five feet and two inches, wheras Azhure was a good five feet and five inches.

"Yes Azhure?" she asked, coming in the room and closing the door gently be hind her. Azhure had ordered her to call her by her first name when they were in private. Chryseis motioned for her to sit, and Azhure did, facing the vanity.

"Something simple, like last night." Chryseis nodded. A twist here, a gold pin to hold it up, another twist there and anothe pin to hold it up, a third twist and she intertwined the three twists for an elegant yet simple hairstyle.

"It's beautiful," she said. "Chryseis," Azhuresaid, turning to face the older woman. "Do you mind leaving with me?"

"Since it'll probably make you happy, I'm to go with you." Azhure smiled gratefully at her friend. Chryseis would be her only friend in Phita.

"Thank-you. I think," she murmered changing the subject, she didn't want to think about the fact that she'd be leaving Mycenae in about and hour! "This is a nice neaklace, don't you think?" she asked holding up a neaklace with a gold chain and a seashell pendant.

* * *

She stood at the dock, clinging to her mother like a five-year-old child, afraid in the market place. She knew she looked like a idiotic, irrational child, but Azhure didn't care she looked like a babe! She just didn't want to leave Mycenae, her beloved home. All she wanted was to stay there, was that so hard! "Please, please, please don't make me go! Please," she pleaded with her parents to absolutely no avail. 

"I'm sorry, my dear. I love you. Know that I love you," she told her daughter. While Azhure was engulfed in her mother's robes, she missed the fact that her mother's charcoal lining was smudging from tears that were running down her pale cheeks. Azhure released Helena. She sniffed. Her father opened his arms, and he embraced her.

"And know that I love you. We are not part of your new life in Phita; learn to accept it however hard it is for you. And learn to love him, my dear, and you shall have a far happier life than if you don't," he murmered to her. She nodded into his chest resigned to the fact that her family was not going to be part of her new life, however much she wished they would be.

Then, he too released her and stepped away from her, giving her a light push towards the ship.

"I love you too." Achilles was trying very hard not to roll his blue eyes in annoyence and break up this little... touching good-bye between the family. Azhure needed this time with her family before they left for Phita.

Chryseis slung a supporting arm around Azhure. "Come, My Lady, it will be alright," she whispered comfortingly into Azhure's ear. She somehow managed to lead (drag) Azhure up the wooden plank onto the ship that would take her away to her new home.

"Prince Achilles," started King Diomedes. "Please bekind tomy daughter. She will learn to get along with you. Maybe even love you... But please try to make her happy. That is all I ask of you."

"You have my word that I shall try," he swore solemly to the king. The king nodded content with the man's answer. He patted Achilles on his back.

"Good luck," the king said with a wink, his brown eyes twinkling with mirth. "The Gods know you'll need it. She's as stubborn as an ass, sometimes, just so you know," he told him, unknowingly describing Achilles as Azhure had the banquet last night.

"Thank-you," grumbled Achilles good naturedly, knowing full wellhe _would_ need all the luck he had to make her like him, or even put up with his company. With a finalfarewell, Achilles climbed onto the ship that would take them to Phita. Aftersome shouts, they set sail towards Phita.

Azhure stood facing the dock, gazing stoicly out at her dissapearing home land. She drank in the sight of her beloved parents and land and commited it to her memory, for she knew that shewould never see it again.

When it was gone, she felt the urge to vent her rage. Rage at her parents. Anger at Achilles. Anger at his parents. Anger at _both_ parents for arranging this horrible marrige. Anger at any damn person who was enjoying today.Sadness at having to leave Mycenae. At having to leave her friends and her family.

Azhure turned around and found the perfect person to vent it out on... Achilles. "I hate you!" she cried and started punching his chest, trying to hurt him, all the while knowing she couldn't. Achilles gently grabbed her arms so she didn't hurt herself. He gently wrapped his arms around her as she cried into his chest.

"Shhhh..." He rocked her side-to-side. Azhure sobbed into his chest for a good twenty minutes. The sailors around them tried to hide their embaressment and ignored the hostile pair. It was an odd sight...both were hostile, yet he was comforting her.

When Azhure finally got a hold of herself, she quickly withdrew herself from his muscular arms.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, embarassd. "I don't know what came over me." What had she been thinking to cry infront of him, especially in his arms? Now he would think she was weak and the gods knew she didn't want that!

"Don't think about it. It's hard, don't worry, I know what it's like. You're going away from the place you've known your whole life, and never coming back." Achilles tried to comfort her to no avail.

_Why do I have to marry him? Hundreds of women probably want to marry him! Why can't they?_ _I don't want to be 'Wife of Achilles' or his property; all I want to be is_ me

_You don't know what I'm going through you idiot! How dare you say that you know what I'm going through!_

"You do _not _know what it's like! You won't be miserable living in a place not your home!" she hissed to him.

"So now you're assuming that you're the only one who's going to be miserable in this marrige? We're continuing this conversation below deck, not in front of my men! NOW!" he almost shouted at her. Achilles was livid. So she thought she was the only one going to be miserable! Gods damn this woman.

Achilles dragged her below deck, heedless of the bruises she would probably have tomorrow. In fact, at that moment, he didn't, wouldn't care. He didn't want to hurt her, but she would't budge.

Azhure was trembling, and Achilles instantly regreted his treatment of her. It wouldn't help their situation if she was scared of him. He took a step back to seem less threatening.

If the sailors above them strained hard enough, they could hear their heated debate very clearly through the rough wood of the deck.

"You have freedom!" she shouted at him. "Phita is _your_ home! You can be with whoever you want! But me? I'm going to be your property, used only for providing heirs." What would it take to get through his thick head to make him see her side to this story? What?

"Is that what you're scared of? Of me taking a mistress? Of me being disloyal?" he asked incredeously. "If that's all your scared of here is my oath: I promise you that I shall remain loyal to you for your whole life. Are you happy now?" he demanded.

Why was he ending up swearing a lot of oaths today?

"Do you think I'm that stupid? Do you think I don't know what goes on between a married man and a woman? Most men have mistresses, what makes you different than all the others? I would at least like you to be honest with me, my lord! And me scared of you being disloyal? I could care less about that."

"I give you my oath, and if that is not goood enough for you, nothing is!" spat Achilles. "Then what are you scared of, dear princess? What are you scared of if you are not scared of me taking a mistress?" he said coyly. Achilles had her cornered and they both knew it. If she didn't say anything, it would seem that she was scared of him taking a mistress. She would have to answer his question, because she was definately not afraid of him taking a mistress.

"I'm scared of being your slave, are you satisfied now, you brute!" she hissed angrily, tears of rage forming in her brown orbs. Perhaps he shouldn't have pushed her over the edge. Azhure stomped off to her room with Achilles burining gaze following her.

* * *

"Does he really think us women are so ignorant and stupid?" Azhure demanded of Chryseis as the two sat on her bed in Azhure's room. "That we don't know that men take mistresses?" 

"Perhaps men do not know how much us women know?" suggested Chyrseis as she ran a brush through Azhure's dark and rather unruly hair.

"And that annoying part was he got so angry when I didn't believe him. He's so stange...I wonder why," Azhure pondered thoughtfully.

"I don't know," admited her friend. "Why don't you just give him time?" With a shake of her head, Azhure both dismissed Chryseis and the idea; she needed time alone to think about many things that were occupying her mind at the moment.

On Chryseis' way out, she bumped into none other than Achilles. "Oh, I am so sorry, My lord," apologised the slave girl hurridly. _If only Azhure could act like that once,_ thought Achilles, shaking his head.

"Oh, it's quite alright. Do you mind giving this to Azhure? She won't take it from me; she'll probably think it's poisened." Chryseis coughed into her hand, and covered her mouth with it to hide the grin. Why didn't Azhure like this man? He seemed quite charming!

"Yes, my lord." Achilles breathed a sigh of relief and handed the woman the intricately decorated silver platter. On it was a wide variety of food, as Achilles was not sure what kind of food his wife-to-be prefered. They had only known each other for less that twenty and four hours and Azhure certainly hadn't opened up to him yet.

"Thank-you, I fear she hasn't eaten the whole day," said Achilles. With that, he turned and walked back up the stairs to the deck.

Achilles had been right; Azhure thought it was posioned.

"How do I know he isn't trying to kill me?" demanded Azhure of Chryseis. "He's probably trying to get rid of me so he doesn't have to deal with me anymore." Her friend rolled her eyes.

"Right. All he needs to do is slip a dagger in your back and through you overboard. Grow up Azhure, he's not going to try and kill you; he'd have to answer to me," Chryseis told Azhure. Azhure shrugged appologeticly.

"Well...that is true. Oh well, if it is poisoned, at least I will die, and he'd be putting me out of my misery. And the Gods know he doesn't want to put me out of my misery. Chryseis, please, have some."

"What, so I can die along with you? Never!" she said while grabbing a handful of grapes.

The two women ate the whole platter of food, not caring about their bad manners. No one was watching them eat, so it didn't matter to the two.

* * *

She was unable to sleep that night as she kept reliving in her mind the other evening's events, particularly the things she had missed in her anger at his damn arrogance. 

_He, _(Azhure could not bring herself to say his name,)had actually been quite a good dancer. Although Azhure hated to admit it to herself, she had been struck speechless at the feelings his touch had awakened in her. Never before had she felt like that.

And when he had spoken into her ear... dear gods...When she'd felt his hot breath tease her neck...

She turned over on her stomach, thinking that it might help her go to sleep, but he still invaded her thoughts, laying siege to the wall she'd tried to build around the memory,as she remembered when she had first seen him. He had been handsome and frightening. Like earlier.

"Stop torturing me!" she cried out into her pillow then flipped over onto her back, still wide awake. Then a thought came to her that perhaps if she went onto the deck then maybe it would help her relax. _Like_ _that'd_ _actually happen_, she grumbled to herself.

Rising from her bed, she grabbed a light robe and donned it over her shift, not caring if it wasn't proper,before stepping outside into the cool summer air.

She leaned against the railing that kept her from falling into the sea below her, watching the moonlight shimmer across the water, making a lovely sight.

The sound of the rushing water around them put her at ease, and she found herself relaxing as she felt the cool breeze caress her face and flirt with her brown, curly hair. Perhaps it had been a good idea.

Azhure had kept out of his way as much a possible during the day, and now occupied herself with watching the calming waves and dreaming of ways to shove him overboard so he'd drown and not bother her again without arousing the suspicion of the crew until the deed was done.

Unfortunately, that just wasn't going to happen. Maybe a big wave would come and sweep him off the ship and he'd drown.

Azhure caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and looked to see what it was.Shebarelybeat downa groan of annoyance as she saw it was the very person that brought her out onto the deck in the first instance.

Ye gods would he never go away?

Unbenownst to the two, they'd come out for almost the exact same reason. And relaxation was not easier for either of them for similar reasons.

Achilles stood rooted to the deck as he saw her standing before him, the moonlight playing over her, shining on her hair... her skin,and making her seem a creature of radiant silver.

Achilles had spotted her long before she had him.

He noticed with someannoyance that when she saw him she unconsciously tensed up, and he wished that things had not started out the way they had between them. He wished he hadn't been so short tempered. He wished she wasn't so damn stubborn. He wished...

Achilles sighed to himself. Wishing never acomplished anything.

He slowly approached her until he could speak to her without having to shout across the wholeship. "Unable to sleep, my lady?" he asked, thinking, _hoping,_ that was civil enough for her.

She rolled her eyes. 'Actually I just came out here to see if the moon was out tonight," she replied sweetly.. "Why else would I be out here in the middle of the night?" she said to him.

Azhure was shivering and her teeth chattered. Achilles took off his dark cloak and gently wrapped it around her shoulders.

Achilles desperately fought against the biting retort that rose to his lips. He had never been around many women other than his mother and the woman he had an intimate relationship, therefore, he had never really learned how to be around women.

Achilles had to remember to hold his tongue around them as he couldn't speak his mind freely for fear of offending them.

"Do you find it necessary to always speak to me in such a way? I only wanted to apologize for my behavior a the other night, as you did nothing wrong. We started off on the wrong foot. Please accept my sincerest apologies, my dear lady," he said, bowing slightly at the waist towards her. He hoped she would except it.

He flashed her a grin.

Could she, _should_ shetrust him?

Azhure had no other option; she was going to live with him. And his change in attitude caught her off guard and she decided to accept his apology.

"Consider them accepted, my lord," she told him."Just don't keep expecting me to forgive you."The young warrior let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"Finally, she's civil to me," he muttered to himself.

"Excuse me!" she snapped indignantly. "You aren't exactly the most civil man either!" With that, she stalked off to her room below. For a moment she had almost thought he had changed, but she'd of course been wrong. A brute like him couldn't change!

Achilles was barely tackling the urge to through himself into the sea, he hadn't meant to say that out loud! He hadn't! However, if he threw himself into the sea, that would please Azhure so much he just couldn't do that, even to put himself out of his miserey.

Why didn't he have a sister? Why? Achilles found himself leaning on the rail again. Achilles kept hitting his head on the wooden pole behind him. "Why do I have such bad luck?" he asked himself. Would this woman ever try to be kind to him? Could they actually get along for more that a minute? Unlikely.

* * *

Just when they start getting along he screws up! HA! Click on that button in the corner and leave a nice little review! 

Priestess


	3. I am not!

Title: Stuck...can't think of 1

Rating: PG-13

Summary: So why is Achilles opposed to love? What if in his past there was somebody who changed him? And as earlier, I suck at summaries...just RR. Please...

Genre: Romance

Pairing: Achilles/OC

Disclaimer: Troy is mine! I stole it yesterday... OK, so maybe I didn't, it still doesn't belong to me... Darn!

A/N: Uhh... I don't have one. Wait, yes I do! Ummm... you guys know the drill, italicized in paragraph thoughts or emphasis. And as y'all know, this'll be _UN-HOMER LIKE!_ I repeat, un-homer like, because this is the Troy section, duh!  
Hey, and a little help with coming up with a title?

And to the ever so lovely, Fanfiction's Saviour/Antichrist/Police: Constructive critisism please! (Actually no comments would be even better)

A/N2: I was thinking of turning this into a Hector and Andromache story, or should I keep it the same? Review or e-mail me your answer...

A/N3: Oh, and I just realized Mycenae is where Agammenmon lives, but just ignore that little fact...

**And now on to our feature presentation...**

When the two woke up in the morning, it was a truly awkward thing for them, to say in the least. Achilles was truly regreting his harsh words towards Azhure, and Azhure was wishing she hadn't overreacted to what he had said, but neither was willing to apoligise to the other. Neither could overcome their pride. And so the antagonism between the two went on.

As their second miserable day on the cursed ship wore on, the slave girl Chryseis was finding it harder and harder to keep Azhure from throwing herself off the ship to drown herself in the murky blue waters of the sea and escape this misery she was in. By the Gods, if Chryseis was Azhure, she would rather marry Achilles than the other suitors who had saught her hand in marrige! She didn't know why Azhure didn't look at bright side of her marrying Achilles. At least Achilles did not treat her as a mare used for breeding only!

Then again, that probably only increased Azhure's hatred of Achilles. She probably wanted an excuse to hate him. However, he did not give her one, presumably on purpose.

The pair was making the boat ride miserable. There was a large amount of tension in the air, like a bow string, taught and ready to fire. It seemed the two would never get along, even in the face of (or perhaps because of) their upcoming wedding.

Achilles occupied himself with talking with sailors that were off duty, but his blue eyes (and attention) kept straying back to the lovely Azhure who stood at the back of the ship, gazing in the direction of her beloved, and out of view, Mycenae. The gentle wind was gently teasing her soft hair, and making stray brown strands of hair fall into her face.

Tears of sorrow and regret were welling up in Azhure's brown eyes and threatened to slide down her pale cheeks as she thought about the horrible situation she was in. She hadn't meant to make him angry! She had just been indignant and not really thinking very clearly. But the sky would fall before she would apologise to him!

She needed to get along with him, she knew that at least. Azhure just couldn't go into this marrige and not even be on good terms. With a sniff she angrily wiped away those embarassing tears. Azhure felt his blue, penetrating eyes on her and glanced at him. Achilles was watching her lazily from the other side of the ship. Azhure was also watching him in return.

Achilles watched with amusement as the young woman's brown eyes flickered from the sea to him and back to the sea again. It seemed she wanted to get along too. Perhaps they could even form a friendship before the wedding if she was willing to. _Unlikely,_ Achilles thought with an amused snort. None the less, the young warrior finally decided to strike up a conversation with Azhure; she looked bored. Almost as bored as he was.

He told the sailor he would talk to him later, and quickly walked up to the woman before she had a chance to flee to her rooms to avoid talking to him. Achilles cursed for the millionth time how badly they had started off. But, he should have expected it. He was taking her away from all she knew to go and live with him in a loveless, arranged marrige. That didn't seem like an extremely enjoyable thing. Achilles had started to see the whole thing through her eyes. He had started to understand what she was feeling.

"You know," he said. "I'm truly sorry about last night. Again, you did nothing wrong. This is all my fault," Achilles told her seriously. Hoping she would except it. This was where the two had started our yesterday. It seemed unlikely that she would except his apology again, because she drew in a deep breath and then hesitanty let it out. She thouroughly suprised him though.

"I accept your apology, milord. I just overreacted to your words last night, I was not thinking very clearly."

Achilles then took a look down at her fragile wrists and mentally cursed himself, noticing the bruises that were a result of yesterday's argument when he had dragged her underneath the deck.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked Azhure, genuinely concerned about the condition of her wrists. Would she be scared of him because of this? That would not do to have his wife terrified of him. No, that would not do at all.

"What are you talking about?" Azhure asked him thoroughly confused as to what the man was talking about.

"Your wrists," Achilles informed her, gesturing to her bruised wrists that hung by her sides.

"Oh", she said extremely stupidly to her utter disdain. Azhure was extremely suprised when she gazed down at her wrists. "I hadn't noticed it until now and I don't mind; they don't bother me." Achilles brushed a stray lock of brown hair behind her ear and she flinched at his touch.

"You needn't fear me, Azhure. I promise never to raise a hand to you" he told her withdrawing his hand when he read the fear in her brown orbs. She had been trying very hard to hide it and had done a good job of it for the most part. "Also, I promise to not touch you against your will, yes" Azhure opened her mouth to protest that she wasn't scared of him when he had said she was scared of him, and swallowed her arguement. He was right; in a way she was scared of him. She had also not protested because of what he had just said. Azhure was stunned. How could a brute like him be so perceptive?

"Thank-you," she whispered touched by what he was proposing. "Now," she started, "about yesterday's conversation, the one during the day, not our one during the night?" Achilles nodded, a little confused, and he had a questioning look in his eyes. "You do not need to have any worries, my lord. I know entirely what is expected of me and I shall do my absolute best to be a good wife for you." She looked down, intently studying her hands that she had suddenly found to be very interesting. Azhure just couldn't bring herself to look him in his eyes.

"Azhure," Achilles paused, waiting for her to raise her head and meet his eyes. However, she didn't. "Azhure, please look at me," he pleaded with her. He would force her to do nothing. Azhure raised her head and he continued on. "I know that this marriage wasn't what you wanted, and I know that there are certain things and feelings that are lacking in this marrige. I promise you again that I will remain faithful to you when we are married. I have many faults, but unfaithfulness and lack of honor are not any of those faults," he informed her.

A furious spark lit in her brown eyes. "I am not so naïve as that. I already told you that I know what political marriages are like and I am aware of what is considered acceptable behavior, as I _am _a princess. You are the leader of an army, and I know it is expected of you to take women with you. I accept it. I care not!" Azhure snapped.

Achilles felt like shaking her as he felt a fire of rage kindling inside of him. "Look, Azhure, I have given you my word, and if you choose to believe me or not, I do not care. I had just thought that you had wanted to know." With that, he angrily spun around and stalked off. It had been a mistake to try and talk to her. She couldn't be talked to!

"Wait," she called softly out to him taking a step forward, but no more. Achilles quickly turned around and gazed at his betrothed, searching her eyes. She met his gaze levelly, but unlike Achilles, Azhure could not read his gaze. He was like a stone.

"Yes?" he asked her rather impatiently. _She'd better not have another biting comment, I grow tired of this! _he thought.

"I'm sorry, My lord. I should have taken your word the first time around," Azhure admited hesitantly, swallowing her pride that was threatening to overwhelm her very soon.

"It is alright, Azhure. You've grown up a certain way and have been taught a certain way and you are right." _No matter how much I don't want to adimit that._ "Most men do take mistresses. The only time they usually don't is if they love their wife. And if you don't mind me saying so, I don't think we're going to acomplish that," he told her quite honestly. "As we've barely have been getting along." For some strange reason, Azhure felt slightly dissapointed at his words, but she brushed it off casually, as if she hadn't felt that dissapointment.

"You're right," she agreed with him. Achilles almost fell over and died with the shock of her agreeing. This infuriating woman had agreed to something he had said? Was he dreaming, or had he just hit his head too hard earlier? Perhaps he had.

"And am I a stranger to you?" he asked her _almost_ curiously.

She gave him an extremely odd look. _Are you really that stupid?_ she asked Achilles in her head. "My lord, we barely know each other. Of course you are," she said as if it was the most obvious think in the entire world.

"And how long do you think we will remain strangers, Azhure?" he continued. She, had by then, realized where the man was going with this conversation, but couldn't think of a way to avoid talking to him. She didn't want to be rude after what they had just acomplished.

She shrugged, trying to brush it off. "It just depends." Perhaps he would drop the subject. Not likely; since he knew he had her.

"On what?" He looked into her eyes and held her gaze. His blue eyes seemed to say 'You know where I'm going to go with this

_May the gods curse you, _she thought, annoyed with this extremely infurating man. He was just about to push her over the edge. "On how quickly we," she hesitated, knowing the last part of her sentance was extremely stupid, "get to know each other," Azhure finished very lamely to his great amusement. _Make that doubly curse you. You'd better fall of this ship later today,_ she thought as he very obviously choked back a laugh.

"And would you like to marry a stranger or would you like to marry someone you know, or at least are aquainted with?" he asked her slyly. Too slyly for Azhure's comfrort. Azhure was clearly uncomfortable, as she was shifting her weight from one dainty sandled foot to the other.

She went very silent, knowing that he'd trapped her **_again_**; she knew when to hold her tounge. _By the gods, he is always getting the better of me!_ she thought, her pride extremely hurt. This man was extremely clever! "I believe I shall return to room, my lord, I am feeling a bit tired," she told him haughtily, trying to retain a shred of her dignity.

"A very wise move," Achiles told Azhure with a vey wide grin. "You do know when to retreat," he said with a slightly approving nod, a little impressed with the woman standing in front of him.

"I am not retreating! From anything, especially you!" she snapped back and again she stamped off to her room. They could never, it seemed, end a conversation with out someone stomping off. Achilles let her go. She needed time to cool off from her humiliating "defeat."

* * *

"How much longer are we stuck on this gods cursed ship?" Azhure demanded of Chryseis when she reached her destination, not even waiting to close the door before she exploded.

"I wouldn't know, I have never traveled from Mycenae to Phita before," Chryseis told Azhure calmly.

"Inquire it of that Prince, then," Azhure snapped angrily. "I would like to know how long I'll be stuck with him."

"Well, considering the fact that you two are going are going to be married to each other, I have to believe you'll be stuck with him for quite some time," _Unless you kill him, or he kills you_. "but I'll ask him." The slave girl left then returned a few moments later. "He informed me with some good sailing, a little less than one week."

"I will die of boredom before we arrive in Phita," Azhure declared dramaticly to her friend. "And since I have nothing better to do, I am going to sleep," she said with a fake yawn.

"Oh, do quit the dramatics, my dear Azhure. You have _me_ to occupy yourself." She batted her eyelashes innocently and Azhure giggled, very amused. "See? Besides," Chryseis said, switching topics. "I don't see why you don't like him; he seems quite charming."

"Oh, charming my ass!" Azhure muttered. Chryseis gasped, make clucking sounds of extreme dissapointment and shook her finger with mock indignance at her friend.

"Now now, no more language like that. Besides, you still haven't answered my" A knock on the door interrupted the girls sentance. Azhure walked over to the door and opened it, knowing who it would most likely be.

She was correct; it was Achilles. The slave girl stiffled a giggle that started to bubble up after taking a look at Azhure's posture. Achilles was also stiffling a laugh at Azhure's expression; it was a mixture of curiousity, anger and indignace, a very amusing combination.

Perhaps he should knock on doors more often when people were in the middle of a conversation; it would provide the man with enough entertainment when he was bored. The women's conversation had been very entertaing to the bored man. _Just kill me,_ Azhure thought angrily._ How much did he hear of our conversation? Did he eavesdrop the whole time?_

"Eat," he told her simply, handing her a silver platter filled with food. "There's enough for both of you." Achilles turned and walked (stalked) back to the stairs that would lead him to the deck. Azhure closed the door while Chryseis shook her head.

"I don't know what you've done to him," she informed the seething princess. "He seems to have good intentions and means well."

"You weren't there at the banquet," Azhure to her. "You wouldn't be saying that if you had been there."

"And I'm sure it's all his fault," said Chryseis sarcasticly. "You didn't have anything to do with it, did you?" she asked her, already knowing the woman's answer and knowing she was going to lie.

"Of course it is not my fault! You think I would provoke him?" she asked rather innocently, too innocently.

"Yes," Chryseis muttered. "Yes I very much think you would."

"You know too much for your own good," Azhure told Chryseis while twirling her brown hair idly around her finger. "Perhaps I should hire an assasin..."

"Oh, do go talk to him, for the Gods sakes, please go talk to him! I cannot stand it; you two are making me go insane! Please?" Chryseis begged Azhure. The Mycenaen princess sighed. _And you weren't insane already?_

"And why should I?" demanded Azhure. "Why should I, because three out of the four coversations we've had, _he_ has messed them up, go and make conversatin with that idiot? I am not going to apologise for something I didn't do!" she exclaimed.

"And the other time?" inquired the slave girl, raising a dainty, blond eyebrow. "I'd wager a large amount of money you really messed that one up."

"I did, and you have no idea," grumbled the princess. "I most definately did. Alright, for your sake I shall talk to him, but it is for your sake only. One could only wish he has fallen on his sword and stabbed himself to death," she said dreamily. "Then I shall be rid of him forever, and then the sailors would turn the ship around and take me back to Mycenae, and no one would want to marry me because the would believe I'm cursed," dreamnt up the increasingly desperate woman.

"You know that isn't going to happen, Princess," Chryseis informed her. "Anyways, one would think that you are starting to at least tolerate him, as you are sounding like an affectionate wife."

"I am not!" the princess of Mycenae snapped indignantly. Chryseis shook her head, and rolled her eyes, not believing her in the least. _You can deny it all you like for now, Azhure, but I do believe you are starting to like him,_ Chryseis thought to herself.

Can they ever get along? Not likely, at least for a little while... Review!

Priestess

Thanks to my reviewers:

**blaiselover**: Thanks! You're going to make me blush!

**mythlover**: Here's another update for you...

**me**:Thank-you very much, and I've updated it.


	4. Reluctant Promises Made, Peace Found

Title: Stuck...can't think of 1

Rating: PG-13

Summary: So why is Achilles opposed to love? What if in his past there was somebody who changed him? And as earlier, I suck at summaries...just RR. Please...

Genre: Romance

Pairing: Achilles/OC

Disclaimer: Troy does not belong to me...

A/N: Uhh... I don't have one. Wait, yes I do! Ummm... you guys know the drill, italicized in paragraph thoughts or emphasis, and in this case, italisezed in its own paragraph is a dream. And as y'all know, this'll be _UN-HOMER LIKE!_ I repeat, un-homer like, because this is the Troy section, duh!  
Hey, and a little help with coming up with a title?

A/N2: Oh, and I just realized Mycenae is where Agammenmon lives, but just ignore that little, teeny weeny fact...

* * *

The two women ate the platter of foods at and amazingly fast speed that a princess shouldn't. They had been very hungry, and they had been a little suprised at how hunry they had been.

"Oh, alright, I shall talk to him in the morning!" exclaimed the princess, Azhure.The slave girl's looks had driven her over the edge; she couldn't stand it any longer. Chryseis had been giving her pleading looks all throughout their lunch.

Chryseis grinned happily to herself. Too brightly for Azhure's liking. Unknown to Azhure,Chryseis had decided she was going to play match maker, despite any costs that there were.

That night, Azhure slept dreadfully, pondering what she could say to him. Maybe she could find a way to pretend to be sick so she wouldn't have to talk to him.

In the morning, Azhure woke with a yawn. Chryseis was sitting in a chair by her bed, her chin propped up in her slender hand, her golden hair cascading down her back in waves, looking rather bored with life.

"Good morning, Azhure," Chryseis greeted her.

"Good-" she yawned in the middle of her sentance. "Morning. What time is it?"

"'Tis almost ten in the morning," Chryseis replied. Azhure's eyes widened in astonishment. She had slept _that_ long? Azhure lazily slipped out of her bed, donned a simple white robe, (as she _was_ a virgin)and tied back her wavvy darkhair after running a brush through it.

With that, Azhure left the room in search of her future husband. When she spotted him, on the deck, she hesitantly walked up to powerful light haired man, fighting the urge to rush back to her room, lock the door and avoid him at all costs.

"My lord?" she asked him quitely, standing at least ten feet away from the two men. He broke off his conversation with a burly sailor, and with a small wave, dismissed him, promising to talk to him later. Achilles turned to the princess.

"Yes, Azhure?" Achilles met her eyes calmly. He had made a point of addressing her by her first name, trying to convince her to call him by his first name, but, so far he had been rather unsucessful.

"Chryseis begs me to talk to you," _However much I hate,no, despise,the idea._ "so talk to you I shall. Mind you, this is only for Chryseis' sake only, and hers only," she informed the young man.

"Not even a little for me?" Achilles asked, feigning to be hurt by her comment. He clasped his hands over his heart dramaticlly.

"No," she said firmly. "Definately not even a little for you." _Not in a million years._

"Azhure?" he asked her.

"Yes?" she said annoyed.

"When we get to Phita, will you spend time with me so we can get to know each other before the wedding?" _What! _she thought incredeously, and stared at him for a moment. She then decided to have some fun with this. She would say yes in the end, because she knew it was a good idea, even though it came from her husband-to-be, even though she woudn't admit it.

"I don't think I should get to know you and spend time with you," she replied with a obnoxious grin. "After all, you kept annoying and provoking me for so long that perhaps I should just say…"

"Please?" Achilles asked her, begging. Azhure was amazed. He could go from cocky and aloof prince and warrior, to a fun loving and amusing man. He was such a strange man. He was so... moody. _And men tell us we are moody,_ she thought to herself.

She couldn't believe it. The idiot was actually pouting! "N-no," she said, trying very hard not to laugh, and she felt herself starting to loose that battle. And Achillles knew it.

"You are losing your resolve," Achilles said rather cockily, and he tilted his head to the side, his blond, chin length hair tilting with his head.

"No-no, I'm not," said Azhure forcefully, trying to regain her footing in the conversation.

He slowly sank to his knees ingnoring the hard wooden floor, and glanced up at her with the best innocent pleading expression she'd ever seen in her life. Azhure heard laughter coming from around the ship, especially by the stairs. Most likely Chriseis! "Get up!" Azhure hissed to him, her cheeks staining a lovely bright red. She was extremely embarrassed, well, more than extremely embarrassed.

"Not until you say yes…" he told her stubbornly, folding his arms.

"I'll get to know you and spend time with you, just get up!" Azhure snapped. He rose at last, and she grumbled. "You win! Oh, all right! For the first three days before our wedding, we shall get to know each other better by spending time together. Are you happy now?" she demanded furiously.

He grinned, looking like the cat that hadgotten the bird it had been stalking – it seemed like such an odd expression for him that she almost laughed. "Oh, yes, Azhure, I am so happy now," he drawled. "Now all you need to do is be kind to me."

"Oh gods!" she snapped, with a furious stamp. "You are such a gods bedamned ass!" With that she stormed off. Azhure couldn't believe that she had agreed to spend three day's time with him. Three whole days!

Achilles watched her, almost throwing himself of the ship to drown. He just had to say that out loud, didn't he? It just _had_ to come out of his mouth!

And the sailors, well, they were struggling to collapse and break out with their laughter. Both at the fact that she had just insulted _Achilles _(Achilles for the gods' sakes!) and that she knew such language. Achilles knew itand just shot them a glare.

The sailor who he had been talking to earlier approached him rather cautiously. "How are you, my lord?" he asked him with an amused snot at Achilles' expression.

"I'm going insane," Achillese said running a hand through his blond hair. "As if that is not obvious to all."

* * *

Azhure slammed the door as she marched into her room. Chryseis looked up. 

"I hate him!" Azhure declared to her friend.

"Oh, so it went that well did it?" she asked, attempting to hide her grin.

"That was a horrible, horrible idea, Chryseis! I am never, ever, listening to you again! Ever!"

They spent the rest of the day on bad terms. As always, when it was time for a meal, Achilles would carry it down on the same silver tray for the two woman, and Chryseis would answer the door, as Azhure was too mad at him to be around him. She still couldn't believe she'd agreed.

Night passed into the morning of the fourth day she had been on the ship. The days had gone by so quickly!

Azhure spent most of the day on the deck avoiding Achilles, getting some fresh air, and chatting Chryseis about quite random things. Blessedly, her future husband left her alone, and she was extremely estatic about it. However, she knew that while he would not approach her, she was aware of blue eyes that were watching her from the other side of the ship.

At lunch, Achilles, _agian_, handed them a platter with food, and again, they scarfed it down. When it became dark, Azhure went to sleep, for better lack of something entertaining to do. She slept horribly, as her dream disturbed her.

_A profound sense of doom swirled up inside her. She glanced around. Where was she? Was she in Phita? No, it couldn't be; Achilles had told her that Phita was not that big. This place had very tall stone walls, and it was on fire. _

_Achilles kneeling by someone on some grass (a girl with brown hair that looked like her own perhaps?)... around him were two dead Greeks. Killed by his own hand? she wondered. But then, why would he kill another Greek? She saw some dark haired man load his bow. She almost got a warning out of her mouth when the mysterious man shot the arrow. Right through the back of his ankle! She winced in sympathy as his head flew back._

_Wait! Why had he been embracing a woman. And why did that woman look like her; the woman looked awfully like herself! Was that her? she wondered Then she heard the woman scream, "Paris, no!" Who was Paris? She didn't know a Paris, at least, she didn't remember any Parises in her life. Perhaps this wasn't her, but then who looked so strikingly like herself?_

_From her hair down to the shape of her body, the woman looked like her. Who was that woman?_ Is that me?_she asked herself. Then she saw the man, Paris, her mind idly supplied, shoot two more arrows, each one Achilles pulled out, which made Azhure fear him even more._

_The mysterious woman gathered her blue skirts and dashed in front of the man. Achilles and the woman then proceded to embrace, and then the woman and the man left for somewhere. Achilles collapsed, dead._

_"No!" she shouted, that word coming out unbidden. Where had it come from?_

Azhure found herself on her bed, sobbing. Why had a dream of his death provoked these feelings in her? Why did she have a feeling she wouldn't be there for his death? Where did that feeling come from?

Achilles rushed in, wearing only a dark blue skirt that he probably had just tied around his waist. "Azhure?" he asked her. Achilles gazed at her, studying her intently, trying to figure if she was alright. He took in everything.

He sat on her bed, and opened his arms. She willinglyembraced him, and she sobbed into her chest. Azhure clung to him and Achilles found that a strange wave of tenderness swept over him. Where had it come from? A couple days ago, they had sent scathing glares at each other, and hated each other more than anything. But now? Now did they feel friendship? Achilles knew that he did, but did Azhure?

"How did you know?" she asked him sniffing.

"Well," he replied with a slight grin. "You screamed 'no' loud enough that everyone in the world could have heard you." She smiled a little through her tears that were streaking down her pale face. "May I inquire what you dream was about?" he asked her gently, treading lightly on what he knew to most likely be fragile ground. A thin line of sweat ran down the side of her head.

"Oh," she stated rather dumbly. Azhure thought she had screamed 'no' mentally, not out loud. "I..." she hesitated. "I dreamnt of your death," she blurted out. He raised a golden eyebrow and she blushed. She had _objected _to _his_ death? He would have expected her to sing and rejoice at his death, but never mind that. Tears were welling in her large brown eyes again.

"Shhh... Azhure," he said rubbing her back comfortingly. Azhure buried her face in his chest. Absent mindedly, she thought of how nicely he smelled and how gentle he was to her. Strange, she had thought him incapable of such caring actions.

With a calloused thumb, he gently brushed her brown hair out of her face.

"Achilles?" He almost shouted with joy. She had called him by his first name! Finally! He wanted to celebrate. She, however, seemed oblivious to the fact she had just called him Achilles. All for the better, he supposed.

"Yes?"

"Please don't leave me. Please don't ever leave me."

"I won't ever leave you," he murmered to her. Azhure was contented, and she lay down, and fell fast asleep. For a while, Achilles observed the sleeping woman, but it finally became too late, and he carefully slipped an arm around her and fell into the land of dreams with her.

* * *

Like the dream? Hehehe... And no, no part of the movie is going to be altered. And what should l change "skirt" to, (if I should change it) because I think that it just doesn't sound right? Special thanks to **Blaiselover**! 

Priestess


	5. Phita ahoy!

Title: Stuck...can't think of 1

Rating: PG-13

Summary: So why is Achilles opposed to love? What if in his past there was somebody who changed him? And as earlier, I suck at summaries...just RR. Please...

Genre: Romance

Pairing: Achilles/OC

Disclaimer: Troy does not belong to me...

A/N: Uhh... I don't have one. Wait, yes I do! Ummm... you guys know the drill, italicized in paragraph thoughts or emphasis, and in this case, italisezed in its own paragraph is either the future/dream or the past. And as y'all know, this'll be _UN-HOMER LIKE!_ I repeat, un-homer like, because this is the Troy section, duh!  
Hey, and a little help with coming up with a title?

Fanfiction's Antichrist: Don't like, don't read, it's as easy as that, you moron. Do have fun trying to review, because I'll just delete it.

And I had to dedicate this to Devil, my lizard who died today :(

And Euryalas' name I found on a Greek name website...

* * *

Azhure woke up to a strange and uncomftorable sight, (although the feeling was very comfortable.) Achilles was lying right next to her with his arm possesively draped over her middlle section, a little below the swells of her breasts. The princess felt her cheeks warm with a deep blush. What had she been thinking to ask him to stay last night? It was not proper etiquitte, and she still wasn't quite comfortable around him. 

However unwillingly, her eyes wandered over him. His skin was so smooth. So perfect except one scar that ran down his back, from the top to the middle of it. Azhure hesitantly ran her finger down the pink marring of his skin.

As she shifted and ran her finger down his back, Achilles woke up suddenly. Azhure quickly drew her hand back. He stared grogily at her for a moment, and then his blue eyes cleared as he looked at her. "Good morning Azhure. I trust you slept well," he said with a small, wicked smirk realizing with a start that she'd been tracing down the scar on his back.

She fidited, uncomftorable. "Yes I did, my lord." Achilles almost hit himself in the forehead in frustration. She wasn't calling him Achilles anymore! Azhure sat up quickly. "I'm sorry about last night. I truly don't know what came over me. I'm sorry to have disturbed you." The man was about to shake her. She was being so difficult!

"Azhure, it really doesn't bother me. You _can_ come to me if there is anything that bothers you. I'm not the evil brute you make me out to be, you know," Achilles informed her exasperated.

"I know," she murmered. "Will you please go now?" He nodded, respecting her wish. He got off her bed stiffly, briefly stretched and then headed for the door.

When he exited out of the room, Chryseis raised a dainty eyebrow as he passed.

"I know," Azhure murmered again. "And I don't know what I'll do." Chryseis swepty brusquely into the room. "Nothing happened," she snapped at the slave girl as she opened her mouth to say something to her.

"_I _know that, and that's not what I was going to address. _Why_ was he here, Azhure? I thought you hated him." _So did I,_ the princess thought to herself, though she was not going to say that to her friend for fear of what she would say.

"Well, I, had a bad dream, and I awoke him, and he came rushing in as I screamed."

"I thought as much. I heard you too." To her delight, her mistress turned a rather amusing shade of red. Azhure glanced at the slave girl suspicously, noticing how much she was enjoying teasing her.

"Did everyone hear?" she whimpered.

"I am afraid so, my dear. What was your dream about?" Chryseis inquired of Azhure.

"I'd rather not say," Azhure said, turning red again. Her slave shrugged to herself, and let it be. Quickly, she dressed her friend and plaited her hair so it hung down her back in a girlish, but comfortable fashion. Azhure didn't care; she had too much to think about, and wouldn't concern herself over her hair. She just couldn't It didn't matter much. There was really no one to look glamorous for. _Except..._ She cut that thought off where it started. She did _not _need to be thinking like that.

Azhure left Chryseis to her weaving. For the life of her, Azhure couldn't figure out how Chryseis could weave for such long periods of time. If Azhure did, she got too bored to continue, and it often got it tangled up.

_Azhure stared helplessly at the tangled mess of the cloak she was making. It had all gone well until she started to get bored. Then she had started thinking about other things besides the weaving, and this was the result. Chryseis glanced over when she heard her friend growl something that, as a princess, she shouldn't know._

_"What have you done?" she demanded, leaning over to inspect it further. "Oh gods," she muttered, and started to untangle it._

_"I give up!" Azhure declared. "I'm going to take a walk in the gardens." With that, she got up and left the room, seething._

The princess climbed up the stairs that would lead her to the deck. Achilles raised a golden eyebrow, wondering why in Hades did she come up? Surely she hadn't gotten over her embarressment yet? When he had awoken, she had been rather embarressed.

She leaned on the hard railing, with her chin in her hands, gazing out at sea.

"It is a lovely view, is it not?" he asked her from behind. To his delight, she jumped.

"Don't do that again!" she snapped furiously, noticing his grin that stretch across his handsome face. She barely restrained the urge to slap that smirk of his pretty face. _Agnorant bastard, _she thought to herself. Azhure looked to the side quickly, suspecting her husband to be was up to something. Her plait came in contact with his face. "Oh Gods!" she cried with fake concern. "I'm so sorry!" Sailors around them snickered at the red mark that was beggining to appear on their prince's face.

"Really, Azhure? I couldn't tell," he drawled.

"But I'm truly sorry!" she told him. _I think I'm wearing my hair in a braid more often, even if it is girlish,_ she thought to herself.

"And I'm a god," he retorted. She cleared her throat.

"Well, my lord, I again thank you for your offer last night, and I appericiate everything." Well, she wasn't calling him Achilles anymore, but at least she was being rather pleasant. Calling him Achilles could wait.

"As I said, it was nothing of."

"If you'll excuse me?" She slipped off, down back to her room to talk to Chryseis.

Days later, the day that they would arrive at Phita, the day Azhure feared, Azhure was twitching and was uptight. Chryseis had picked out a blue dress, with a silver trimming; it was rather lovely and light which was good since it was hot outside. Her slave girl swept up her brown hair in simple twist, held up with a pin, and completed with a saphire necklace and earrings. Chryseis smirked.

"Now go show your husband to be." Azhure rolled her eyes but complied anyways.

Achilles stared for a moment at the woman. "Do you like it?" She asked him, unsure.

"Azhure, I love it. You look lovely. And don't worry, they'll love you." She opened her mouth to protest, but he silenced her with a look. "Don't give me the 'I'm not this' , 'I'm not that' because it is really getting on my nerves." She sighed.

"Alright!" she said reluctantly. "I admit, I'm a little nervous, but wouldn't you be? I'm going to live with people I've never met. I haven't even _seen_ where I'm going to live."

"No, I wouldn't be nervous. I'm perfect. Besides, I thought you thought you were perfect." She turned her nose up and slapped him on the shoulder.

"_I'm _trying to be serious here."

_A chesnut haired girl, probably Azhure, sat sulkily in the corner of a tent. There was a cut on her lips. He reached out in an attempt to help her wash the dirt and lines of blood of her face. She shrank back. It was probably Azhure, by her looks and attidude. He tried again. Same damn reaction! In his frustration, he threw the rag at her. She gladly returned the favor. Definately Azhure, he thought to himself. He dropped the rag in the basin of water._

_But then, he addressed her as 'Briseis.' Who was Briseis? Why did she look so much like Azhure? Was she their daughter? No, it couldn't be, because his child wouldn't treat him with such indifference and hatred..._

"I know," he told her. "And I'm trying to help calm your nerves."

"Well you're not helping," she muttered. And then he did what she'd feared he'd do again: he sank to his knees again, and gazed up at her, innocently. Azhure blushed, then started to smile, and soon it stretched across her face. He soon stood up.

"My work here is done," he declared.

"So says he." Azhure snickered. Now they were very close to her new home and she decided to tease him. It had taken two days longer than he'd expected to reach Phita.

"So, travel to Phita often?" Azhure teased him. A puzzled look, then reconition crossed his face.

"Well, the winds were not as strong as the usually were and..." Azhure stared at him incredeously and he raised an eyebrow, questioningly, his sentance trailing off.

"You just can't stand being teased. You can make fun of me, and it's fine, but when _I_ tease you? You have to make up escuses?"

"No."

"Stubborn ass." He coughed into his hand.

"I don't know where you learned that but-"

"My cousin."

"-I don't want to know," he finished with a sigh. "I don't mind, I really don't, but please, not in public."

"As you wish then, Prince Achilles." He rolled his eyes, mentally despairing, gazing up at the sky. _Why me? _Achilles asked himself. He would ask his mother when he got there what it took to make her call him 'Achilles' again. She had, after all, been in the same position Azhure was now in.

"Please, call me Achilles," he begged.

"As I said," she said a little stiffly. "I don't call aquantinces by their first name." She shurgged his hand off her shoulder. At least he'd gone from stranger to aquantince.

"Azhure! I am _not _the gods damned brute you make me out to be!" he snarled. Why in all the gods names was she so childish? Azhure had to accept the fact that she had left Mycenae forever, and they were going to marry each other. Achilles wanted to strangle her.

And then came a faint, "I know," in another language which Achilles reconized. "I know." This shocked Achilles to the core. First at the fact that she knew that language, and at what she had just said.

"Thank you for your trust," he said to her in the same language, genuinely grateful. Azhure then mentally berated herself. _Why had she just said that out loud?_ For another time, to Azhure's great embaressment, she flushed red. _Again!_ Achilles smirked, victorious and Azhure growled, so unbelievably frustrated. Could she get anything by him?

"So you know how to speak-" she started. Achilles turned his blue eyes skyward.

"Obviously or I woudn't have just understood what you said and replied." She snorted sarcasticly.

"Maybe you just guessed correctly."

"Or maybe," he said with a joking growl. "You need to stop talking." Azhure wrinkled up her nose and squeaked with mock fear.

"My lord?" He whirled around.

"Yes Euryalas?"

"We're to land in about fifteen minutes, Sir."

"Thank you." Achilles dismissed the man with an absent-minded wave of his hand. So began Azhure's new life.

* * *

Priestess 

And thanks to:

**Blaiselover:**Thanks a ton:)

**StapledSatin:** Thanks for the review! Me likey reviews. ;)


	6. Azhure Speaks

Title: Stuck...can't think of 1

Rating: PG-13

Summary: So why is Achilles opposed to love? What if in his past there was somebody who changed him? And as earlier, I suck at summaries...just RR. Please...

Genre: Romance

Pairing: Achilles/OC

Disclaimer: Troy does not belong to me...

A/N: Uhh... I don't have one. Wait, yes I do! Ummm... you guys know the drill, italicized in paragraph thoughts or emphasis, and in this case, italisezed in its own paragraph is either the future/dream or the past. And as y'all know, this'll be _UN-HOMER LIKE!_ I repeat, un-homer like, because this is the Troy section, duh!  
Hey, and a little help with coming up with a title?

A/N2: I made up what Phita looks like. In Troy, Phita doesn't even have a palace. Ignore that though. Peleus is Achilles' father's name, no?

A/N3: Melanthus is also from a Greek name website.

* * *

I couldn't believe it, we were almost at Phita. Almost at my new residence, where I would begin my new life as a _wife_. Achilles' wife. I shuddered. While he was nice enough, I just didn't want to be _anybody's_ wife. 

I found it hard to accept. Time had passed quickly since the night I had dreamnt of his death. We had grown closer. Not lovers, we would probably never be, but we were almost friends. Not quite friends given, but we had only known each other for but nine days. (It had taken two days longer to get where we were, and I couldn't resist rubbing it in his face.)

"So, travel to Phita often?" I teased him. A puzzled look, then reconition crossed his face.

"Well, the winds were not as strong as the usually were..." I stared at him in disbelief, and he raised an eyebrow, questioningly.

"You just can't stand being teased. You can make fun of me, and it's fine, but when _I_ tease you? You have to make up escuses?"

"No."

"Stubborn ass." He coughed.

"I don't know where you learned that but-"

"My cousin."

"-I don't want to know," he finished with a sigh. "I don't mind, I really don't, but please, not in public."

"As you wish, Prince Achilles." He obviously didn't deem that worth replying to because all he did was roll his eyes at me. And then...

"Please call me Achilles." he said to me.

"As I said," I don't call aquantinces or strangers by their first name." With that, I shurgged his hand off my shoulder. I met his eyes and then recoiled fearfully. They were burning with fury. What was he mad about? What had I done now?

"I know," I murmered.

* * *

I found the crowds overwhelming. The Phitans clearly loved their _lovely_ prince. I rolled my eyes at the thought of Achilles being a lovely man. Lovely, lovely, lovely, my ass. 

I supposed I would get used to the noise from the crowds. When we reached the royal housing, a man and a woman greeted me. When he embraced Achilles I realized he was my husband to be's father, Peleus.

"Ahh... Azhure. I am Peleus, and this is my wife, Queen Thetis." He presented me to a woman. She was very elegant and she held herself with a high sense of pride. She had but a thin streak of grey in her black hair. She wore a deep blue dress, with the "v" cut of marrige, and buttons. She wore a single piece of jewelry; a silver, hammered neaklace with a saphire inlaid in it.

Her eyes, blue as the sky, (like Achilles') got a far away look, and distressed, she murmered something to her son who demanded why everyone was dreaming of his death. I was stunned, but I had no time to think about such things."I suppose you are tired," Achilles' father said to me.

"Yes, my lord," I replied quietly.

"Come, I'll have a servant show you and your servant to the Maiden's Quarters."

"Thank you, my lord," I said meekly, not knowing what they expected me to behave like. How was I to know what they expected? I figured the more polite and quiet the better, at least for now.

"And I'll have some servants bring your things to your room."

"I'll show her to them," offered Thetis. Her husband smiled at her and nodded. As Thetis led Chryseis and me to the woman's quarters, I heard the king remark to his son, "She's a meek little thing-" And then I heard no more of their conversation.

"Azhure?" I nodded. "How many handmaidens do you have?" Thetis asked me.

"Just Chryseis."

"Just one? And you don't need anymore?" she asked, suprised.

"I'm fine, thank you. Chryseis can manage."

Thetis nodded. "This area," she explained to us. "by law, is off limits to every single man, including my husband." I grinned gleefully. This was where I could come if we got into an arguement! I was beggining to really like Phita. Thetis Chryseis noticed my smirk and sighed, probably guessing what I was thinking. "Yes," she told us. "I come here if I am angry with my husband; it works rather well." I then noticed guards; they took that law _very _seriously. "You shall room here until after your wedding. Then, you sleep in my son's room. Would you like to just wander around, and explore?" I nodded my thanks and she left us to our own devices, however unwise.

The room wasn't elegant, but I didn't care. It was decorated tastefully however. Besides, even if it _was_ ugly, it didn't matter because I was going to live in his room after a week or so. I couldn't even begin to say how nervous I was about living in Phita and living with Achilles.

"Don't even think about it," I warned Chryseis. We left the Maiden's Quarters, and took a right. We passed a small group of slaves. Trojan by the look of them with their dark, curly hair. They were talking amongst themselves.

"... She's not even that pretty." Angry tears stung my eyes. "He'll probably tire of her and take a mistress. Perhaps 'twill be one of us." They giggled seeing us pass and probably at the idea. Obviously they thought Chryseis and I could not hear their whispering. They probably also thought, that if I did hear them, I wouldn't do anything about it. They were so wrong. I rounded on them.

"I'll thank you to keep you to keep your mouth shut, especially around me. You don't even know what we have talked about, and I don't think he'll take some as vile as you to his bed," I snapped at them.

They could gape and glare at me for all I wanted because I'd tired of their annoying tittering. I spun around only to bump into _him._ "Oh, greetings, my lord." The group of girls scattered quite quickly. Almost like birds. I just barely restrained the urge to giggle at the imagery of that. Birds with the chattering heads of Trojan slave girls. Very interesting. It worked, because I wasn't as mad as I had been previously.

"What was that all about?" he demanded, crossing his arms. He was such a scary man at times. He could intimidate anybody, _especially _me. "I heard what you said, just not what they said."

"Your slave girls were discussing certain things, and I corrected them," I answered.

"They're yours too. They're not just mine. We're to be married, so everything that is mine, is also yours," he informed me.

"Not in their eyes," I muttered, which he did not fail to hear. His nostrils flared in distaste (probably from their disrespect), and I was reminded of a bull ready to stampede. I laid a desperate hand on his arm. "No, don't, my lord." It was then that I realized with astonishment, how much power I had over him. He took a deep breath and let it out.

"As you wish, Azhure." Chryseis coughed behind us, and I remembered that she was here to. I'd been too angry to recall that. "Azhure?"

"Yes?" I demanded of him. His eyes simmered, but he did not remark on it. I then realized that I was very, _very_ good at making him angry.

"You recall that you promised you would spend time with me before the wedding." It wasn't even a question. I raised my one of my eyebrows, silently questioning him. "How about in the gardens at two?" I was about to protest it wasn't proper without a chaperone, when he held up a hand, apparantly guessing what I was going to say. "Chryseis can chaperone."

"Oh yes. Chryseis will be very helpful. She'll be off chasing any handsome men that happen pass by us," I muttered with a wicked spark in my eyes.

"I do thank you," she said dryly. "For both your comment, and for asking me first."

"Bah!" Achilles left before I could ask where the garden was. "You would have said yes anyways."

"Cocky aren't you?" Chryseis muttered.

"Very," I replied with an innocent grin. "Now," I said. "Where's the garden?" I tried to remember where the garden was, and failed. Badly. Perhaps we hadn't walked by it on the way to the Maiden's Quarters. Or perhaps we had and I just didn't remember seeing it as we walked by.

"Come now, Azhure," she told me, grabbing my arm. "It can't be _too _hard to find." As it turned out, it was. It took us about an hour to arrive there. More than once we found ourselves back in the same spot.

"I can tell you need help finding your way about," he said dryly when he saw us.

"You have no idea," I snapped, testy from our walk.

"Well aren't we in a good mood!" he said with a smirk.

"Do you enjoy provoking me?" I demanded of him. Did he? It certainly seemed like it to me. Smirk at me here, smirk at me there. Basically everything I did was rewarded with a smirk from him.

"Yes." he retorted. Lovely. A husband who liked to provoke me. What a fun life I was going to have. "Come," he ordered. "Sit down." I obeyed, rearranging my skirts. Then he noticed Chryseis. "You too, if you like." She too sat down on the grass. I leaned lazily against a tree with my hair spilling down my back just observing him.

There was an awkward silence. Then he spoke up. "So, Azhure, is Phita to your liking?" Damn him! Now I had to talk to him.

"Yes."

"Like what, Azhure?"

"The garden." He nodded and silence reigned once again. Suddenly, this dark haired man sauntered over to us.

"Charming a group of them, I see. Shame Achilles. You're to be married and here you are, flirting with other women!" he exclaimed with mock horror. "I pity the woman you are to be married to." Obviously he didn't realized _I _was that unlucky lady.

"Thank you for your sympathy," I replied.

"Keep your mouth shut Melanthus," he groweled to the man. Melanthus, eh? I made a mental note.

"Wait," the man demanded of me. "You're the Mycenaen princess?"

"Yes."

"Well then, you have my consolences."

"Thank my lord."

"Azhure?"

"What?" I demanded.

"Azhure, meet Melanthus. Melanthus this is Azhure." I coughed, jerking my head discreetly at Chryseis. "And this is Chryseis." He gestured towards my friend.

"Greetings Azhure, Chryseis." He made a small bow. Achilles sighed.

"I've been stuck with him ever since he joined my Myrmidons. What was that, four years ago?"

"Sadly enough, yes. I regret joining them."

"Pity I accepted your offer to join." I laughed at the two men.

"I shall take my leave and let Achilles charm you two beautiful women." I blushed.

"Good bye, my lord," I said.

"Good bye, my lord," Chryseis whispered. Ha! Just what I had told Achilles. Off chasing any handsome men who happen to walk by.

"I'll see you later Melanthus," he said. Melanthus nodded and left. Well, the first part of my getting to know him wasn't so bad. Only an hour left...

* * *

**And people, e-mail me your pics of Achilles/Briseis, or nominate one... I've started Briseis and Achilles Awards. Some of the idea from HuntressDiana. (She runs Tortallan Heroes Awards) Or, sign up if you want to be a judge, and I shall e-mail you the rules. Tell everybody who likes A/B please...**

**Blaiselover**: Thanks again:)

**CountessJackman**: Of course I can't have her like him right away. Thank you for your many reviews.

Grrr... I'm turning into Sara Douglass. (Don't ask) I don't really like Azhure, she's too childish/girly. Hmm... how to kill her painfully... ponders that. Oooh! I got it. looks around evilly But I'm not telling!


	7. Talking, Fearing, and a feast

Title: Stuck...can't think of 1

Rating: PG-13

Summary: So why is Achilles opposed to love? What if in his past there was somebody who changed him? And as earlier, I suck at summaries...just RR. Please...

Genre: Romance

Pairing: Achilles/OC, and others, maybe. You'll have to see.

Disclaimer: Troy does not belong to me...

A/N: Uhh... I don't have one. Wait, yes I do! Ummm... you guys know the drill, italicized in paragraph thoughts or emphasis, and in this case, italisezed in its own paragraph is either the future/dream or the past. And as y'all know, this'll be _UN-HOMER LIKE!_ I repeat, un-homer like, because this is the Troy section, duh!  
Hey, and a little help with coming up with a title?

A/N2: I made up what Phita looks like. In Troy, Phita doesn't even have a palace. Ignore that though. Peleus is Achilles' father's name, no?

A/N3: Melanthus is also from a Greek name website.

A/N4: Sorry it took so long for me to update. Special thanks to you, **_Calliope Foster_**, because even though you didn't review to this story, you're reviewed to three of 'em, and you got my ass in motion so that I actually finished this chapter which I've been working on for a month. Thanks!

* * *

"I'll talk to you later Melanthus," he said to the man._ And spar for about seven hours 'till we die. Death is nice._ Melanthus nodded and left the three alone, smiling to himself, knowing that Achilles would be bored to death conversing with two women. Chryseis let out a yawn; she apparantly was too.

"You two are boring me," the slave girl grumbled, her golden locks falling in her eyes. Chryseis just left the hair there. She yawned again, and within minutes she was asleep, (despite the fact that she was supposed to be chaperoning the pair.)

"So..." Azhure trailed off, studying the grass intently, finding it many times more interesting than their conversation. Achilles sighed, annoyed with the girl.

"Alright, Azhure, why don't you tell me something about your childhood?" he suggested half-heartedly, wishing he was out on the practice courts, sparring with Melanthus or Eudoras.

"Why don't _you?_" she retorted, her concentration broken. She pushed stray strands of her brown, curly hair behind her ears, which the wind had been toying with for the past handful of minutes.

"Because I asked you first!" he snapped in return.

"There's nothing much to tell, really; it was rather dull." The man rolled his eyes in annoyance, not believing her statement for a second.

"I don't believe that," he muttered. "Fine. What would _you _like to talk about, Azhure?" _Maybe then I won't have to sit here and stare at you for hours. Maybe then I won't be bored_, he thought, all the while knowing he wouldn't succeed and she would not cooperate.

"Why don't we talk about _your _childhood?" she said to him.

"There's nothing much to tell; it was rather dull," Achilles mimicked. The girl sighed.

"Please?" she pleaded with him. She wasn't a talker, most of the time.

"No. You first."

"Please?"

"No!"

"Please?" she said, dragging out the word, trying to get on his nerves, and succeeding.

"NO!" he snarled.

"Please?"

"As you wish!" he snapped. Anything to get her to stop pleading with him. "What would you like to know?" he asked her after taking a breath to calm down. After this he would have a _very _long practice with Melanthus. _Of for fucks sake! _he thought. He couldn't go. He had a feast to attend in honor of their betrothal. In honor? How about celebrating the cancellation of the betrothal.

"Do you have any siblings? No one greeted you so I assume not, but I'm curious all the same."

"No." _I'm sure you are curious. What a liar you are, Azhure!_

"Oh. My lord?"

"Yes?" _It's Achilles! _he seethed to himself.

"What is your favorite color?" Achilles almost smacked himself in disbelief. What a stupid question! _How stupid is she? What do I wear all the time? Black or blue. _Achilles started having a conversation with himself mentally.

"Black or blue." _Are you sure you have eyes that function properly?_

"Oh." _Will she ever stop saying 'oh' and have something more intelligent to say to me? Or will she just bore me to death?_ _More like than likely it will be the latter... on purpose. _Chryseis smiled to herself, although neither noticed. Leave it to Azhure to say unintelligent things to try and kill a conversation. "Well..." She sighed. "Melanthus seems nice."

"Yes."

"Oh! Now you are doing it!"

"What?" he asked her stunned. What the Hades was she ranting about now? Could they hold one conversation without her exploding at him about the tiniest things?

"The one word responses! Do you enjoy provoking me?" Could they hold one conversation without him deciding to provoke her for the fun of it?

"Yes. We've been through this before," he replied with a wicked grin, a spark of glee in his blue eyes.

"Well, will you stop it?" she demanded, furious.

"No." Azhure exhaled, exasperated. Achilles heard it, a knew it to not be a good sign, so he added: "Unless you say 'please,' then perhaps-"

"Will you _please_ stop it?" she cut him off while rolling her eyes.

"As you wish, my dear lady."

"Will you just shut up?"

"No! Dear lady," he added with a second thought, wondering how mad he could get her.

"Shut up!"

"No, my lovely, lovely lady."

"SHUT _UP_!" Achilles looked rather taken aback. Untill it dawned on him she was about to slap him. He grabbed her hand violently, not caring if her hurt her.

"Don't you dare," he hissed at her furiously. "Don't you ever dare to try and hit me." Azhure whimpered, but nodded quickly. "Unless you want to face the consequenses." His voice dropped to a whisper, and only Azhure could hear him. Again, the princess whimpered, and again she nodded.

"Hey, hey! Calm down you two!" Chryseis apparently woke up. "No more screaming from you, Azhure." She glared at her mistress. "And _you_ would do well not to provoke her, Achilles!" She turned her glare to him.

* * *

"And Azhure?"

"What?" she demanded. She wanted to get out of there as fast as she could. The princess still hated him even if he'd comforted her when she'd left and when she'd had the nightmare.

"There's a feast tonight in your honor."

"There's a what!" she demanded. The man rolled his sea blue eyes.

"A _feast_," he said, talking to her as if she were no more than five years old. "You know, when important people gather in a man's court and eat to celebrate something?"

"I heard _that, _you silly ass," muttered Azhure. "Tonight?"

"Yes tonight. So you have," he glanced up at the sun. "Around an hour and thirty minutes to get ready." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Azhure and Chryseis were hurrying to the Maiden's Quarters.

* * *

"How about this one?" Azhure shrugged indiffertly.

"It matters to me not, for who is there to look nice for?" Chryseis sighed.

"_Azhure-" _she started.

"I know." Her slave girl rolled her eyes, but wisely said nothing else. After Azhure donned the dress, Chryseis lined the princess' eyes with kohl and applied lip rouge. She then pinned up her mistress' curly brown hair.

"There!" she said. "Finished."

"Thank you, Chryseis." Chryseis nodded in reply.

"Please, please, _please_ try and get along with him."

Azhure sighed.

* * *

Peleus stood up and waited for the chatter in the hall to die down before the king began to speak. "It is my greatest _honor _and _joy_," he shot a glare at Achilles which none but the recipipent nocticed, "to present to you my soon-to-be daughter, the lovely Azhure. Achilles and I could not ask for a better wife," another glare, "and it is my _joy _to _welcome_ her to my country. I shall save most of my rather boring speech for their wedding celebration. I drink to the health of Azhure and Achilles, may they live long and _happy _lives!"

Everyone raised their wine glasses and drank to the betrothed couple, not noticing the glares and the emphasis, and Peleus sat down. The noise from the group of people slowly picked up again after a moment. Azhure turned to Achilles. "I do believe I shall retire now," she murmered, hoping to escape the crowd, _and_ Achilles.

He nodded, spoke a few words to a nearby servant whom he'd snagged, then stood up to escort her back to her rooms. "Azhure, we have just been announced as a betrothed couple so it is proper manners for me to leave with you and escort you to your rooms," he said, silencing Azhure's protests. "You know this," said Achilles.

Damn him! She wanted him to give her an excuse to hate him! She wanted him to hit her. To abuse her. Anything! She just wanted a reason to hate him, besides him provoking her, and him raising his hand to her, but he never hit her. He'd promised.

Achilles rose and followed her out the door into the hall. They walked in an awkward silence to the Maiden's Quarters, each intently studying something else besides each other. Azhure walked a good couple feet away from him.

"Well," Achilles said when they reached the entrance, "Good night." She grunted in response, barely aknowledging his statement. She took a step forward to go into the Maiden's Quarters, but he reached out and snatched her arm. The warrior pulled her in front of him, his eyes boring holes in her own. "Why do we hate each other so much, my little betrothed?" he asked softly. "Why?"

"I do not-"

"Azhure," he said firmly. "If you were to say that you did not hate me, I would not believe you! At least be honost with me!" he snarled venemously at her, his voice rising with each word untill he shouted and his words echoed throught the halls, barely stiffling the urge to throttle her. He raised a hand, took a deep breath, and dropped it. Azhure's eyes widened in fear. Again. She shrunk away from him. Tears pricked Azhure's eyes as she fled to the doors, giving a small nod to the two guards she passed on her way to her rooms. The guards were trying to stiffle their embaressment in having to watch that scene.

Achilles stared after her for a moment, just watching her flee, before turning around and heading back to his chambers. There was no use in going back to the feast, the men were most likely just getting drunk.

But being drunk was a good escape to the nightmare that was rapidly closing in on him. The fact that he was to be _married._ Perhaps he should go back to the feast. Or sparr with Melanthus. Or sleep.

Achilles opted to go back to the feast and get drunk. And escape it all. Untill the morning when he would wake up and have a hangover and still be betrothed to Azhure.

Why did he have to marry _Azhure? _Why the one girl who didn't like him in the least. He'd thought the night when she'd had the nightmare that things were improving. That she was starting to be able to stand him. Apparently she wasn't. In fact, the situation had gone downhill. Tremendously.

And now she was deathly afraid of him. Just wonderful. His life was horrible.

_**Should I change Azhure's name? To something... more Greek?**_

**And people, e-mail me your pics of Achilles/Briseis, or nominate one... I've started Briseis and Achilles Awards. Some of the idea is from HuntressDiana. (She runs Tortallan Heroes Awards) Or, sign up if you want to be a judge, and I will e-mail you the rules because Saki (Studio Huh) and I just got the website up and running. Tell everybody who likes A/B please...** **And go read her story. It's Please, Achilles, Please. **

**And does Achilles have any siblings? Please tell me, and I'll find a way to work them into it...**


	8. Lesson's with Melanthus and Achilles

Title: Stuck...can't think of 1

Rating: PG-13

Summary: So why is Achilles opposed to love? What if in his past there was somebody who changed him? And as earlier, I suck at summaries...just RR. Please...

Genre: Romance

Pairing: Achilles/OC, and others, maybe. You'll have to see.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of it, unless I wrote it and it's not from the movie. I am not so cracked in the head as to believe I do. If you think that and wish to sue me, I suggest you take a long walk off of a short pier.

A/N: Uhh... I don't have one. Wait, yes I do! Ummm... you guys know the drill, italicized in paragraph thoughts or emphasis, and in this case, italisezed in its own paragraph is either the future/dream or the past. And as y'all know, this'll be _UN-HOMER LIKE!_ I repeat, un-homer like, because this is the Troy section, duh!  
Hey, and a little help with coming up with a title?

A/N2: I made up what Phita looks like. In Troy, Phita doesn't even have a palace. Ignore that though. Peleus is Achilles' father's name, no?

A/N3: Melanthus is also from a Greek name website.

**Norma Jean the Dancing Machine: **Thanks. I like the name Azhure too, I just wasn't sure if it was too... un-greekish. Anywho, thanks for the review, and don't worry about forgeting to review. OK. Here's your update.

**Just a fan: **blushes at all the very awsome compliments Thanks.

**Blaiselover: **Gotta listen to the reviewers. So I guess I won't be changing it. Thanks so much for the review.

**Gaby: **Thanks.Well... I guess they're starting to get along better. Seriously, I wouldn't jump into the arms of a man who was taking me away from my home forever. Thank you for your review. Sorry about the wait on the chapter, but I got **really **grounded. Again. And actually, I'm not suposed to be on the computer right now. Oh well...

**IshizuN:** Wow. Calm yourself Nikita, you spaz. ;) Yeah, that homework sucked. I just did it in home room. Very fun.

* * *

Azhure woke early the next morning because of the sun that was streaming in through the window. 

"Morning," she said to Chryseis, yawning. The slave girl nodded in return, too sleepy to form cohert thoughts. She stretched and rolled out of her bed, leaving her friend, who was barely awake, yawning and groaning in her own bed.

Azhure pulled her brown, curly hair into a loose horse tail, and swiftly changed into a simple dress.

* * *

"Achilles!" shouted Melanthus, pounding on the man's door. "Get up!" 

"Too loud!" he muttered to absolutely nobody. Not even himself. "Shut the hell up!" He pulled his pillow over his head attemting to block out all sounds.

Melanthus poked his head in Achilles' room. "His Majesty- your father- demands you get your bloody ass out of that bed, and talk to him for a moment before escorting your future wife to breakfast." He smiled wickedly. "And stop complaining like a little girl; it's your own fault you have a hangover," he added. He easily dodged the ill-aimed pillow that was thrown at him by his friend, and walked out, closing the door behind him, leaving the prince muttering vile things about Azhure, mornings, friends and his father.

He groaned and rolled out of his bed, almost falling over. He threw on a skirt and a shirt, and slowly tied on his sandals. Groaning, he stumbled down the halls into his father's room.

"Nice to see you, son," said Peleus. "I have a few brief words for you. Sit down." The man complied. His father leaned forward.. "I may not have seen it, but I know you, and I know what happened, along the lines." His voice dropped even lower, and became more menacing. "Do not raise a hand ever again to Azhure, or you will find that you just might reciever a similar, but more harsh treatment. However much you do not like it does not matter; she is to be your wife!" He rose. "I suggest you get something for your head, and eat something." He left his son glaring angrily at his back.

* * *

After eating a small breakfast, Chryseis and Azhure went to the weaving room. Chryseis had to drag Azhure there. Literally. The princess had been complaining the whole time. 

Some one knocked on the door. Both women looked up. "If it's _that_ prince, tell him he can go bugger himself," she growled. Chryseis smirked, actually hoping it was Achilles so she could see the expression on his face when Azhure told him that. She got up and opened the door. It was Melanthus.

"Hello," said Chryseis, "My lord," she added, quickly remembering his station. He brushed it off.

"It's Melanthus. How are you?"

"Fine, thank you," she replied.

Melanthus turned to Azhure. "And you, lovely lady, how are you doing?" She scowled and he flashed a grin at her.

"Quite well, thank you. Did 'milord the prince' happen to drink himself into a stupor and will not be visiting for, oh, a handful of days?" _And then I won't have to get married?_

"I'm afraid you have no such luck, but he does have an incredible hangover. I'm here because I'd like to propose something to you."

"Yes?" she asked, not bothering to control her annoyance. She just wanted the man to say it, whatever he was going to say to her.

"Would you like to learn a little sword play with me, of course including your lovely friend?" Her eyes lit up.

"You mean I'm allowed to do that?" she asked eagerly. Melanthus laughed at her excitement.

"Of course. Why not? Now given you won't fight in any wars, but come, what's the harm in learning to protet yourself and getting a little excercise? Have you already had breakfast?"

"Yes," said Azhure. "When do we start?"

"A half an hour. Do you know where to go?" She snorted.

"What do you think?" she asked him. _What do you expect? I've only been here for a day and night, now._

"No." He smiled sheepishly. "Well, the practice area is by the garden. I'll see you there, yes?"

"Yes!"

"Good. Try to be a little more enthusiastic," Melanthus told her. Azhure scowled, and Chryseis chuckled. He turned around, and left. Azhure was barely concealing her excitement.

* * *

Achilles was sitting on the fence, drinking water and talking to Melanthus. She snuck up at him, putting her finger to her lips so Melanthus wouldn't say anything. 

"Greetings, Prince," she said into his ear. He jumped, choked on the water in his mouth, fell off the fence, and pointed a sword at her neck. She smirked at him. He glared at her.

"What are you doing here?" the two choroused, starting distastefully at each other. "_Melanthus!"_ The man dropped his sword and sheild and raised his hands in surrender.

"Honestly, I couldn't help getting involved. This is killing me. It's only a couple of days before the wedding." _Don't remind me,_ thought Achilles. "But right now, Azhure and I are going to spar."

"Fine," muttered Achilles. Melanthus stooped down and picked up his sword.

Achilles made as if to toss away his sheild. "Too heavy," he explained to his wife-to-be, as she looked questioningly at him.

"No!" snapped Azhure stubbornly. She snatched it out of his hand, and staggered with its weight. Achilles desperately fought back a 'told you so,' and Melanthus barely concealed a wide grin. After struggling with it for several minutes, Azhure managed to hold it up, albeit her arm was shaking.

Melanthus grinned at her, approaching her extrememly slowly, and she finally dropped the sheild, annoyed. The princess kicked it angrily, swore and yelped.

"That was stupid," she said to herself. Azhure looked at the madly grinning man in front of her. "Should I be scared, or what?" she asked. Achilles handed her his sword.

"I would be," muttered Achilles. She then gripped the sword in both of her hands, rather awkwardly and incorrectly, notedAchilles,and then pointed it out in front of her. As he came within reach he gently swung it at her, making sure that there was no chance the sword would hit her. With the exception of Achilles, nobody wanted a dead briede.She brought her sword up and smiled vitoriously when she heard the "clang" of the two swords colliding.

"Such amazing talent, dear Azhure," Melanthus praised her teasingly and a wide grin stetched across his handsome face, which mirrored his prince's wife-to-be's face. "You should join the army. Really, you should!"

"I love this!" she cried ignoring what he said to her, blocking another gentle swing that was aimed well away from her. "This is so much fun!"

Achilles smiled, watching the two of them. Melanthus was treating her as if she were something made of glass or the like, which relieved him considerably. He knew that if any harm befell her, he would be blamed, even if it wasn't truly his fault.

The strokes were aimed and given as much power as though he was fighting a little child, but the girl just couldn't have been happier, even though she did realize that he was going extremely easy with her. She knew that he wasn't even putting as much force behind it as he would for a seven-year-old.

With every clang of the weapons colliding, she smiled happily. Achilles watched her from the fence, admiring how beautiful she looked when happy. She was almost glowing, she was so happy.

Finally feeling brave enough to dare, she swung at Melanthus in return. He easily blocked the weak swing and Achilles finally decided to call out instructions to his wife-to-be. He couldn't help it; a year or two of commanding, and he could not repress the urge to.

"Stay lighter on your feet, Azhure, you're much too flat footed. He'll gut you easily if you aren't aware. " She almost snorted. Gut her. Of course.

"Azhure," he said patiently. "Move more. You must stay on your toes."

Then he noticed something else. "You need to flex your wrist a bit or you're going to break it from all the impact." _Even if there is barely any impact._

She responded excelently and swung again at Melanthus, this time at his head. He ducked instead of blocking the swing and in doing so, he allowed her to feel that she had come closer to beating him then she had in the previous swing.

"I almost hit you," she said warningly with a huge smile, blocking another light stroke aimed well away from her.

"Almost," he agreed, gently parrying a weak swing from her. He could see her arms were starting to shake from exhaustion. Being a princess, the only heir to the king of Mycenae at that, it was obvious that she had ventured outside very little.

"So, this is how you and _all_ the Myrmidon practice?" she asked as they slowly "fought" each other.

He nodded, gently swinging at her head. She brought her sword up to block the "blow."

"How does someone finally win?" she asked curiously. He almost shook his head. She knew nothing about this. It amused him greatly.

"Just like this," he responded teasingly, and with a lazy flick of the wrist, he sent her sword spinning, and he brought his own up to point at her throat. "I win," he said smugly. Azhure smiled and stuck her tounge out a him.

"If you get tired of losing to him, you can beat on me," she said with a grin, not at all concerned she had lost their spar.

"_Hey_!" protested Melanthus. "Who says he beats me all the time?" She rolled her eyes at him and ignored his question.

"You're like a little baby," Azhure told him.

"I know," he replied, smiling gleefully at her.

"You see what I am stuck with?" Achilles asked Azhure. "Don't you pity me?"

"No, not really," the princess said with a smirk.

"I _told_ you she likes me more!" Chryseis fought back a laugh, and did not succeed. Achilles played angry at the man.

"And here you are, accusing _me_ of womanizing. Shame on you! And I'm to marry her." Azhure chuckled.

"Let me rephrase that. You _two _are like little babies."

"Thank you," Achilles said with a bow. "Now I am not hurt."

"What am I stuck with?" she asked Chryseis. "Save me! Anybody, please, help me!" she said in mock fear.

That day went well, and Achilles drew a little closer to his future bride.

* * *

Ta daaaa! See, I updated! Aren't you guys proud of me? And even though I'm grounded. nods Yup. Now review! Please? 

Click the purplish button and review!

Priestess


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